The Long and Lonely Road
by paroxysm11
Summary: The Courier and Cass leave New Vegas for San Francisco after helping the NCR regain its territory and annex eastern Nevada.  Will they find what they are looking for out West?
1. Chapter 1

**The Long and Lonely Road**

**Chapter 1: 12:21 PM, January 23, 2283 - Primm, Nevada**

"Oh, _bastard_."

A steady stream of epithets and profanity echoed from under the engine cover. A young woman, not more than twenty-five, wearing a cross around her neck, leaned up and rested against the car.

"The wretched thing _ just won't work._"

_Rose of Sharon Cassidy. Once a depressed, drunken girl sitting in a NCR outpost lamenting her life - now a well-regarded hero of the nation and a companion to the Courier._

"Well, what's wrong this time?"

"I DON'T KNOW."

A man of about the same age opened the side door of the vehicle and slid out, looking decidedly perturbed. He was taller than Cass, by at least a couple inches, with cropped brown hair and a weathered expression.

_Alexander Ainsworth - also known to the people of New Vegas as the eponymous Courier. Survived a nasty shot to the head and ultimately led NCR troops in the Second Battle for Hoover Dam - and in the battle for New Vegas. An honorary Ranger and renowned madcap._

"Let's look at it logically. What's it not doing that it ought to be?"

"Working."

"Apparently so."

"Wait. Wait wait wait. I think I've sorted it."

Alexander smirked and went back to work removing the back seats of the old car. They had found it on the Long 15, and it was in the best shape they had ever seen a vehicle from pre-War times. It even had a petroleum engine rather than a nuclear one. He and Cass planned to use it to get away from New Vegas - go West, further into the NCR. Their goal was San Francisco, at least for the moment. From there they could get about anywhere.

The first and most obvious problem was that the car was, in fact, more than two hundred years old, and, as such, was prone to some minor issues - such as localised explosions. They had plenty of caps - but nobody remembered how to repair a petrol engine.

Suddenly, Cass cackled madly.

"Turn the ignition, turn the ignition!"

He reached into the drivers' seat and did so. Nothing happened.

"Nothing."

"Oh, wait."

She turned the crank under the engine quickly and successfully primed it.

"Try now."

Nearly impaling himself on the centre console, he tried the ignition again and the ancient engine roared to life. Clambering into the front seat, he pressed the accelerator and it revved magnificently, producing a horrific yet gratifying sound of metal grating. Cass came to the window, a massive smirk on her face.

"Ha." Alex glared up at her, then broke into a smile. She spoke. "I told you I could fix it."

"Fine, fine." He climbed out and hugged her, gesturing to the car. "This is our ticket - our way out of this damn desert. It's finally done!"

They had been working on the malfunctioning motor since mid-October, when Cass had spotted it while returning from New Vegas to Goodsprings on the newly-cleared Interstate 15. A train of Brahmin had dragged it south to its resting place outside of the former garage in Primm. They had been lucky enough to find very old vehicle tools in the old garage - enough, apparently, to repair the car to operating condition.

"Is there enough gas in it?"

"Six gallons. The rest is inside."

"Enough to go for a ride."

He slid back into the drivers' seat while she walked behind the car, closing the engine cover, and got into the passenger seat. Trying mightily to manage the clutch, he ground it into gear and the car took off like a shot. They coasted past the NCR buildings and onto the cluttered Interstate. Alexander mostly kept to the centre of the road, to avoid the cars on each side that had been there for 200 years - but had to swerve fairly often to avoid hitting them.

"I'm shocked at how well this works."

"Honestly. On 200 year old tyres, I thought we'd be offroad in a ditch by now."

"Doesn't matterrrrrrrrrrrrrr-" He sped off an exit and spun the car around in a gas station parking lot, making a loop and heading in the opposite direction on the Interstate. Soon enough, they pulled back into Primm, parking it neatly in front of the converted garage. Instead of putting it in parking gear, with a severely broken clutch, he simply put on the parking brake, which consisted of tying down the brake pedal.

He shrugged. "It works."

"How soon can we leave the Wasteland?"

"Tomorrow, if all goes well."

Their belongings already packed into three suitcases and sitting by the toolbox, Cass and Alex slept fitfully that night, impatient to leave the desert and head out. They had picked San Francisco randomly, off a map of the NCR. It seemed like the most different place they could possibly go to, compared to the Mojave Wasteland.

Very, very early the next morning, they filled the 55-gallon drum full of makeshift petrol and threw their cases into the back, driving off with considerable speed. Their goodbyes had already been said, to everyone in the Wasteland they cared for.

Just a few miles into old California, they were stopped at the Mojave Outpost. An NCR soldier stepped up to the car and spoke.

"Gonna have to stop you here. No vehicles or caravans on the 15 west of here."

"...why?"

"Bandits and critters. Whole area's overrun with them. You'll have to turn back."

"Do we have any choice in the matter?"

"No." The trooper rested his hand on the stock of his rifle, suspiciously eyeing them. Considering he'd never actually seen an operational vehicle come through the Outpost, his suspicion was well-founded.

"I... fine." Alex turned the car around awkwardly, bumping into several objects on their way out. Speeding down the road north, they discussed their options.

"We could sneak through at night."

"Can't - we may be good fighters, but if there's enough of a problem that they would shut down the road to the Hub, we couldn't handle ourselves."

"Agh. I guess so. Well, we could go north through New Reno and take the Interstate east from there."

"You're assuming the Interstate is still there. You do know it snows something awful on the old 80, right?"

"Let's give it a shot."

"Alright. Do we have the fuel?"

"We have enough to get a good distance into California."

"It'll have to do."

And so they did. Taking the junction in New Vegas and heading north on Highway 95, passing through the ruins of towns with names like Indian Springs, and Goldfield, and Hawthorne. The towns had not actually been destroyed in the Great War, but the resultant chaos had left the few residents to leave their homes - or - stay until their deaths, leaving the tiny villages to rot in the desert sun.

It was pleasantly cool in the ancient car, with an icy breeze from the north counteracting the neverending sun. As they approached the abandoned city of Fallon, about sixty miles east of Reno, the weather turned decidedly for the worse. Rain began to patter against the plastic windshield Cass had installed and leak through the open gaps in the roof. The wind picked up, causing the light car to coast back and forth across the road.

"Go left! Here!" Cass suddenly looked up from her sketched map and saw the sign for the road heading to Interstate 80 - which would take them into New Reno and relative safety.

Alexander skidded the car, on its very, very old tyres, in a near full circle and got on the proper road, glaring at Cass once they had survived. "I thought you were looking at the map."

"Distracted."

He smiled and went back to driving. Sure enough, about seventy miles later, the freeway picked up into a proper road, with lanes and barriers, and abruptly ended at a stoplight - possibly one of the few still in use in the world. There were a few people milling about, wandering to some place or another on the grimy sidewalks.

On the red signal, which, to the best of Alex's knowledge, indicated the ability to go, he turned left and slowly cruised down Virgin Street, under the _Biggest Little City in the World_ sign, which had been on postcards he saw in the lobby of the Tops in New Vegas.

"It's... shorter than I imagined."

"I know what you mean."

The postcards had advertised tall casinos and resorts, and all the amenities of New Vegas (but without the warring factions). But the only thing they saw taller than three stories was the Cal-Neva tower, standing high over Virgin Street. Under the old sign, someone had written Wright Headquarters. Having been incorporated as the NCR state of North Nevada, with New Reno as the capital, the year before, the two searched for the nearest government building.

"Do you see it anywhere?"

"There. There!"

The flag of the New California Republic flew proudly over a squat but clean building across the street from the Cal-Neva tower. Armed Troopers stood outside, guarding it. He pulled the car up alongside it on the street and turned off the motor.

Stepping out into the driving rain, the two hurried up to the gate. A trooper turned to them.

"Authorisation?"

"I need to talk to... well, literally anybody."

"And why should I let you in?"

He hated to do this, but went ahead. "Do you know who I am?"

"No."

"I'm Alexander Ainsworth, the hero of Hoover Dam. And you'd goddamn better let me in out of this rain."

The Trooper glared at him for a moment, then the light of realisation seemed to pop onto his face. He stood up straight and pointed his rifle at the sky.

"Come right through, sir, miss."

They strode through the gate and into the courtyard, going past a dry fountain and into the building.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Long and Lonely Road**

**Chapter 2: Prologue**

War never changes.

The New California Republic proved victorious at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, wiping out the Legion with ease - that is, with the help of the Boomers, the Brotherhood of Steel, and Mr. House. With their strong point gone, the Legion shrunk back to a tiny tribe in southern Arizona, and quickly faded into insignificance.

New Vegas (along with the Mojave Wasteland and most of southern Nevada), with the blessing of Mr. House, was annexed into the Republic as the eponymous state of New Vegas. Hoover Dam produced quite enough power and water for the entire area, and it slowly began to recover from 200 years of chaos. The surrounding towns were at first resentful, but recognised the light of civilisation and respected their new leaders.

There was, however, one major casualty of the battle at Hoover Dam - President Aaron Kimball, who was struck down by a sniper's bullet as he left the scene. A full state funeral was held for him in Shady Sands. He was succeeded as Commander-in-Chief by his Vice-President, Cooper Coyle, a lifetime politician from Redding. General Lee Oliver was appointed in Coyle's place, serving as both director of the NCR armies and a Vice-President..

Under President Coyle, the Republic scaled back its imperialistic tendencies, and concentrated on establishing a power base - annexing New Vegas, North Nevada - with New Reno as its Capital - and the Bay Area. Nearly all of California had previously been held by the NCR, but the area immediately surrounding the San Francisco Bay neither held any interest to the leadership, nor made it easy to take over - with the Enclave base at Alameda and the Shi remnants in the city.

However, once the NCR forces had marched into the region, they found the Enclave base abandoned and the Shi home decimated by plague - leaving only a few of their race alive. The area was quickly annexed and given statehood (the Republic's smallest state yet), with the capital being the city itself, San Francisco. The technology facilities in the south Bay Area were once again put to use, developing new ways for the NCR to both improve the lives of its civilians and improve its defence.

President Coyle signed an official declaration that the existing areas were the limits of the New California Republic's land gains for thirty years, to the fanfare of many, and concentrated on internal development of the nation - that is, repairing roads and communication lines between the major cities.

Coyle's reign was seen as a second renaissance for the country, and, similar to Tandi in her time, he was idolised by the populace. As of the time of this tale, he had been in office for approximately nine months.


	3. Chapter 3

**A Long and Lonely Road**

**Chapter 3: 10:15 PM, January 24, 2283 - New Reno, Nevada**

Striding confidently into the NCR compound on the main street of New Reno, Alexander and Cass looked around for someone who knew what they were doing. Before they had the chance to speak to anyone, a tall woman with dark skin came up to them.

"The Governor wants to see you."

"I... okay." Cass responded and walked forward to the office marked with a rather garish sign saying 'Governor of North Nevada and Representative of the People.' Alex followed and entered the room, to see the man who ran the entire state.

He was short, and rather rotund. A massive smile fell upon his face and he stood (with some difficulty) to greet the newcomers.

"Ainsworth. And Cassidy. The entire nation has heard of what you've done. And I'd just like to offer my gratitude for your services to the Republic."

"Er... thank you. We're just passing through."

Slightly out of breath, he shook their hands quite violently and went back to sit down.

"Now, now, now. What can I do for the resident heroes."

"Well, we're looking to get to San Francisco. I-"

"San Francisco? ...why?"

"Doesn't matter - we want to get out there."

"At this time of year, I wouldn't advise it. It's dangerous and all that."

Cass cut into the conversation. "What do you mean, dangerous? Bandits?"

"No bandits - god knows they can't live out there. It's the storms."

"Can't be any worse than it is here."

The governor chuckled and, somehow, while being shorter than them both, looked down his considerable nose at them. "The Sierra's three thousand feet above us - and old Highway 50 is outright gone. That means you'll have to take Cold 80. The Interstate."

"How bad can it be?"

With yet another condescending snicker, he leant back into his chair and went on. "Storms. After the War, somehow, something about the bombs or _something_ made the winters worse up there - down here a bit too. Worst snowstorms you've ever seen - almost completely impassable. Particularly in winter. And it's January, you know."

"We know - and it doesn't matter. We can handle it."

"Well, you're driving a car there, yes?"

"It's parked outside."

"You'll want to get it fixed up. There's a damn big repair place up Pyramid Lane - can get the machine retrofitted for the Sierra transit."

"Thanks for the advice. Anywhere we can stay for the night?"

"I can probably set you up with a room at the Wrights'."

"Sounds just fantastic. That's the old tower with the Cal-Neva sign?"

"Yeah."

Just as they were leaving, he spoke again, in a grave voice. "You know, I get a lot of travellers coming west through New Reno, wantin' to go over the pass. But I never get anybody heading east that's made it over."

They politely smiled and excused themselves.

"He was a bit odd. Helpful though."

Alex nodded. "We'd best get out of the rain, over to the hotel."

Without another word, they quickly crossed the street, leaving the car where it was. "It's not going to get stolen - there's nobody to steal it." Cass spoke, with a crooked grin. Entering the lobby of the tall tower, she strode over to the man behind the counter to their right. Behind him was a variety of shirts and postcards advertising the Wrights', New Reno, and the 'Tallest Building North of New Vegas.'

"The Governor sent us over - said he could set us up with a room."

"Yes. Sir has already called, to make a reservation for sir and madam." He spoke with an intensely pretentious, obviously fake British accent - cultivated for his job, one can only assume.

"Well... I... thanks."

"Here are sir and madam's keys."

He handed them a shiny brass key emblazoned with '1715.'

"Sir and madam are on the seventeenth floor, room fifteen."

Eying the strange man, they walked towards the elevator - miraculously working, and nervously rode up to the seventeenth floor, the elevator shaking and rattling. With a clean 'ding' it let them off and they glanced around.

"This is actually pretty clean. I guess New Reno wasn't damaged that badly."

"Suppose not. Or maybe they actually take care of it."

"Yeah - reminds me of Vegas."

Alex gave a noncommittal nod and walked to room fifteen - near the elevator - and unlocked the door, letting them both in. It was a very, very small room, with barely enough space for a broken television, a reasonably-sized bed, and a separate bathroom.

"I suppose this is us."

Alex slipped his handgun under the left pillow and set his case down on the television stand - Cass set her shotgun against the wall and did the same. They silently rifled through their things, idly avoiding the matter of sleeping arrangements.

He and Cass had been the best of friends and companions since his miscellaneous adventures in New Vegas had started - and it had only been that. He couldn't deny that there had been some romantic advances by both of them, particularly when drunk (and with Cass, that was a fairly large amount of time). But, for the sake of preserving their relationship, and the depths of their own minds, they had made sure to keep things as platonic as possible.

Hopefully (or not so hopefully) that wouldn't change. They had lived in the same home, but never slept in the same bed. It would either be an exercise in self-control, or futility.

He glanced at the wall-mounted clock. "It's already eleven. We've got an early morning."

"I guess so. Let me clean myself up a bit."

Cass wandered into the bathroom and was genuinely surprised to see that there was clean, running water - in direct contrast to everywhere else she'd been. Maybe New Reno wasn't so awful. Meanwhile, Alex laid atop the bed, already half-asleep. They had been taking shifts driving that day, and he had gotten both the starting and ending shift. Tiring work, driving. He couldn't see how people from before the War did it so much.

Turning off the water and putting her limited supply of soap back in the bag, Cass went back into the main room and slipped under the covers - inches from Alex, who had similarly done so. Two mumbled 'good nights' and they very rapidly fell asleep - an anticlimax to what they both had expected.

Very early the next morning, they were both awakened by the storm pounding against the windows. Snow had fallen over the night, giving the grimy city an air of purity. Already, it was beginning to become grey - betraying New Reno's past and present - and maybe future. The two put their things in their respective cases and tramped downstairs through the rickety elevator, snickering about the pretentious door guard, and went out to the car.

"Hey, it's still here!" Alex smirked and started it, with some difficulty. After turning the primer crank, Cass jumped in. They made a brief U-turn and went back up to the Interstate - remembering that they'd seen a large fenced-in area at Pyramid Lane on their way in. It had to be the repair shop the Governor had mentioned.

Pulling off the road, he manoeuvred the car with some difficulty into the main gate, leaving it by the building - still idling, as he could not make it turn off.

"Just another problem to be fixed, I guess."

Entering the main building marked 'Chop Shop,' Cass spoke to one of the several people sitting behind and near the desk.

"We need our car fixed."

"I can handle that for ya, pretty girl." One of the men stood up and sneered at her. "And how... how are y'gonna pay for it?"

Alex stepped forward. "Caps. Just caps."

"We only take NCR cash, big guy."

"Fine. Just make the car ready for the Sierra transit."

The grimy man chewed on a destroyed cigarette and stared Alex down.

"Come back tonight."

Turning on their heels, the two strode out of the building and went back to their car.

"I... we don't actually have a way back into Reno."

"Right. Maybe we should stay with the car anyway. Not much to do around here."

"And honestly, I'm not sure if they're going to fix or steal it."

He nodded and leaned against the car, surveying the area with a withering look. It was still sprinkling rain upon them, and the high desert bluffs were whitish-grey with frost and dust. They had seen the same landscape for mile after mile of driving through eastern Nevada - never ending and never changing. But they didn't mind it. At least it was different from the Mojave.

Soon, a woman, who looked very young - younger than Cass or Alex, to be sure, came up and waited awkwardly beside the car. Cass turned to her.

"You waiting to work on the car?"

She spoke, in a very soft tone, looking partially at the ground and at her out of the corner of her eye.

"Yeah. I'm the mechanic."

"I'm Cass, that's Alex. It's our car needs fixing."

The girl was obviously not used to people being this openly friendly to her and started to look more persistently away. "Well, I need to take it to the garage."

"We'll go with you. Got nothing better to do."

"I... okay."

They backed away and she cautiously turned the car around and drove it into a large open garage - big enough that they had confused it for a small aircraft hangar. Twiddling with the ignition, she managed to shut off the motor.

"So... so what's wrong with the car."

"Lots of things. Motor mostly won't start, it's inefficient, it knocks, the brakes are broken, and it needs to be retrofitted for driving across the mountains. Storms and all that. And we want a place to sleep in the back, there, if we get stranded somewhere."

The girl looked almost crestfallen. "There's no way I can get all that done today."

Cass's dubious maternal instincts seemed to have kicked in. "Don't worry, honey, we're both pretty skilled at repair. We can help out. It just needs to get done."

Her face lit up. She got to work as part of a team! Turning back to them, summoning her most authoritative voice, she started to outline the plan.

"Okay, I need you to cut some metal. If- if you can." She gestured at Alex. "And you, you can help me fix the motor."

And so the project went on, for hours upon hours. They talked with the girl - who was more than eager to chat, as she apparently had very few people to talk to. Her name was Alice, she was seventeen, and her parents lived in New Vegas. They were very poor prospectors there and, upon learning that she was skilled at working on mechanical things, had sent her north with the Crimson Caravan Company to New Reno where she might make some money to send home. She found a job at the Chop Shop, and had been there ever since. The men who ran it were crooks, she said. Stole bits from cars they found and sold them back to the people.

But it was a good paycheque, and she stayed. And she was happy enough, except for her horrible bosses and coworkers - whom she managed to ignore most of the time.

Thoroughly smeared with only the thickest and filthiest grease, they managed to finish all of the work in only six hours, the sun barely setting over the hills as the motor roared into life a final time. It had been repaired into its original form, a so-called hatchback, with the back area replaced by an overstuffed mattress and the gas barrel, and all of the back window-holes replaced with sheet-metal panels to protect against the snow and cold.

Though cobbled-together and frankly odd-looking, it ran. And it ran fairly well, considering Alice had managed to make the 55-gallon barrel of petrol hopefully last until they hit San Francisco. After it was all done, she went back into the main office and re-emerged, followed by the man who was leering at Cass earlier in the day.

"That'll be two thousand dollars, NCR, cash." He appeared to still be chewing on the same ruined cigarette. Alice opened her mouth to speak, but just looked down at the ground and stood behind him.

Looking him straight in the eye, Alex leafed through his pocket and took out the money. God knew he had plenty, after New Vegas. The man took it, counted it, grunted, and went back inside. Alice looked up at them.

"Sorry about that. He likes to take too much money for my work."

"It's okay, there are just people like that."

Alice turned to leave and Cass called out to her. "Wait. Do you want to come back to New Reno with us? I'm sure you could find a better place to work there. You wouldn't have to deal with these goddamn scumbags every day."

"I can't. What if I don't find work."

"You can always come back here. You're the only mechanic, yeah?"

"I guess. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad."

"Come on. Don't even tell them you're gone."

The girl smiled, awkwardly, as if it wasn't something she was practised in doing. She nodded a bit and Cass held the door of the car open for her. Clambering into the back and sitting on the mattress, the other two got in the front and, with relative ease, started the motor. Alice was in a much more cheerful mood as they drove back into New Reno, away from the place that had tormented her for so long.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Long and Lonely Road**

**Chapter 4: 9:01 AM, January 26, 2283 - New Reno, Nevada**

"You know, I don't actually like Nevada all that much." Alice remarked dryly as they left the Wrights' hotel early on the morning of the twenty-sixth. The other two agreed. It was cold and full of unpleasant people with unpleasant guns, both of which were very intent on ending their respective lives.

"Do you want to come with us to California? Maybe even the coast?"

She smiled darkly. "I... I don't know. I was thinking last night - maybe it's my time to return to New Vegas. I've been here in Reno long enough, and saved enough to go back. From the stories you were telling, it's been a lot better there since the NCR annexed it."

"Well, take that with a grain of salt." Alexander responded, with a serious tone. "I'm as big a supporter of the NCR as anyone else - that's obvious enough - but things aren't completely fixed out there. It's far off from the capital, and supplies, aid, and messages take a long time to move back and forth."

"But it's better."

"Yeah. Certainly better than this hellhole."

Alice looked concerned. "I think I've got to go back. At least see my family again before I head west."

"Well, Alex and I are leaving today, no later. A big storm is coming through in a couple days and we neither want to get caught in it nor stay in New Reno any longer than we have to. Not the best place in the world, this."

"I think this is where I say goodbye. For now, at least."

"You sure? We've got plenty of room heading west."

"Yeah. I'm going back to Vegas. Make sure everything is fine out that way."

"Alright - we're bound for San Francisco, so you should be able to contact us there somehow. I'd hope."

Alice smiled shyly and looked down at her shoes, evidently bothered. "I... um, OK. I know I'll see you two again sometime."

Hugging her, Cass spoke. "You can always track us back down."

Without another word, Alice took her small bag of things and walked off towards the end of the street, where she could theoretically contract with a caravan company and hitch a ride down south to New Vegas. Both Alex and Cass were saddened - they had grown to like the girl, and were somewhat protective of her. She was soft, too shy to survive in the real world. But they could not stop her, and quietly let her go off on her own.

Hopefully she would find them in California.

After the girl had departed, the two of them puttered about the town for a short time, purchasing food and other minor essentials. Several minor repairs later, including hurriedly screwing a panel back onto the roof, they (with some difficulty) started the small car and drove off, quickly leaving the civilised/populated part of Reno.

The land turned to scrub-brush and spite, and snow began to fall, darkening the daytime to a perpetual twilight state - even with the sun at its brightest point. Cass was driving, as it was her shift first, as the road began to twist upward violently. The car slowed down considerably, and the engine began to make a sound somewhat akin to a blender being inserted into a second blender. Apparently, despite their best efforts and work done on the car, it was still ill-prepared for any sort of work.

"That doesn't sound good." Alex glanced at the bonnet, slightly concerned as to the steam coming out the edges.

"Don't worry, I can see the snow's about to come down a lot worse. It'll cool down the engine and we'll be alright, I hope."

"Yeah, but what if we get caught in all this. Will it start back up in the morning?"

She looked concerned but pressed on, as the quality of the road deteriorated: the asphalt turned to loose gravel and stones, and it became no more than a single narrow lane as it climbed. Suddenly, it flattened out as the storm thickened and visibility sunk to no more than twenty or thirty feet. They sped up but were halted in their tracks by a large sign in the road reading "Landslides; take detour" and a large arrow to the right.

Her head out the window to get better sight, she pulled onto an entirely different road which went downhill with the same ferocity as the Cold 80 went up. They sped to a velocity that was quite thoroughly unsafe, with a somewhat inexperienced driver at the helm and a nasty road in a snowstorm ahead. Thankfully, however, it levelled out and they coasted to a safer speed; and directly, about thirty miles later, into a tiny town.

Painted on the side of one of the weatherbeaten buildings was "Welcome to North Lake Taro" - presumably the name of the settlement. Wanting some sort of directions, Cass pulled to the side and parked near the building. Lacking any sort of heavy coat, Alex followed, looking for little else than warmth at that point.

The first building, the one they entered, seemed to be little more than a local tavern. There was a bar along the far wall with a man slowly drying a pint glass and two or three patrons sitting idly around the room. None of them seemed to have much to do at any given time.

The barkeep looked up at the duo. "Welcome to North Lake Taro Town Hall. Can I help you?"

"Town hall. Is it now." Alex looked at the man dubiously.

"Sure is. I'm Michael, the mayor, call me Mitch."

"Mhm. And how big is this town?"

"You're lookin' at the lot of us."

"I... really?"

Mitch chuckled. "Naw. I'm just fuckin' with ya, this isn't no town and I'm no mayor. Just a friendly resting place on the road."

Alex was at a loss for words. Meanwhile, Cass stepped in, brushing her bright red hair back and cocking her hat once more on her head. "We're heading over the mountains to San Francisco. Could use some direction, caught the detour off the main road."

"Yeah, that detour's been there for thirty-odd years. The old 395 washed down the hill ages ago and nobody bothered repairing it since."

"Wait. 395? We were heading west on the Cold 80."

"Honey, someone in Reno told you wrong. You were heading south on 395, back towards New Vegas. Caught the detour and ended up here."

"I... FUCK."

"No, it's alright, you're close enough. Probably a good thing you took this way through, I got word not too long ago that a mile or two of 80 got washed out just in the Redding state border."

"Well then how the hell are we supposed to get through the mountains to old California proper?"

"You can head west, take the old North Shore Road back to 80. Just have to watch for bandits when you get close to the highway - there's an old town up there that they like to camp out in."

"Thanks for the advice. Anything else?"

"Yeah, the Donner Pass part of 80 is gone and dead - no road left. Snow took it straight away. Y'all are gonna have to take the old Donner Lake Road. It's higher up and harder to drive, but it's actually passable. Hope you can see."

"Right. You have anything to drink that's not booze?"

"Water. I got water."

"Fuck it. Thanks for the advice, mate."

"Tell your friends."


End file.
